


First Watch

by twistedmiracle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alone, Auror Harry Potter, Don't copy to another site, For Days, M/M, SpellMaster and Auror Consultant Draco Malfoy, TM's drabbles, The bad guys can be caught easily with Draco's magic, They just have to sit around in the woods, and what will it mean when the camping is over?, check that funny word count!, whatever shall they do to pass the time?, with nothing to do but babysit spells
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-30 19:47:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17835017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twistedmiracle/pseuds/twistedmiracle
Summary: The bad guys can be caught easily with Draco's magic. They just have to sit around in the woods, alone, for days, with nothing to do but babysit spells. Whatever shall they do to pass the time? And what will it mean when the camping is over? Harry and Draco both have some very interesting ideas. How compatible are they?





	First Watch

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the DracoHarry100 community, in 100 word chunks. New prompts each week!  
> http://dracoharry100.dreamwidth.org/

“I’ll do first watch.”

“I should fucking well hope so, Potter,” Malfoy drawled. “You’re the Auror.”

Harry took in a deep breath and let it out, nice and slow. “And you’re the expert Robards called in. Who’s getting paid. Who said, to Head Auror Robards’ face, that he could work with me.”

Malfoy raised one arrogant eyebrow, cocked one impudent hip, and tried to stare Harry down.

Harry stood taller, crossed his arms (and his wand) over his chest, and refused to back down.

They stood there, glaring in silence.

A few feet away cricket a chirped. Another cricket answered.

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Finally, Malfoy spoke. “I might have said that, Potter, but I’m surprised you were listening. I recall you spent that entire meeting vacillating between fury that I’d been called in, and drooling over my arse in these Muggle trousers.”

Harry took another deep breath. This case was important. Robards would fire him if he fucked up. Or worse, force him to take that holiday he kept hinting Harry needed.

“I can’t help it,” he finally said, soft and low, “if your arse is incredible. Now why don’t I watch you walk it back into the tent? Sleep for four hours.”

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“Just four?” Malfoy said, calm as a fucking cucumber. “And me with my… restless sleeping. I’d better masturbate, so I can fall asleep quickly.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Whatever it takes, Malfoy.”

Malfoy made no move toward the tent. Instead, he reached for his zip. He didn’t lower it, but Harry’s eyes were drawn to his fingers, and the bulge that lay just _there_.

“I bet,” Malfoy said so low Harry could hardly hear, “there’s some Auror-approved wanking method. There’s been no end to the Auror-approved methods for everything else. Maybe you should watch. Make sure I do this… correctly.”

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Harry felt his ears heat; his cheeks; his neck.

“I could watch, Malfoy,” he improvised. “But you’re right. We have Auror-approved methods of achieving orgasm, especially on stakeouts.”

“Oh?” Malfoy cooed, one finger still teasing at his growing bulge. He’d still not pulled down that damn zip.

Harry took a step closer. “Oh, certainly,” he said as quiet as he could. He watched Malfoy turn his head a touch to listen intently.

“Robards takes partner work very seriously, you see,” Harry adlibbed.

Malfoy’s mouth lost its pretty pout. It softened, opened a millimetre. “Yes?” he said, when Harry didn’t continue.

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“Robards insists partners do everything together,” Harry lied, low and dirty. “So we come together. Out here. We can’t abandon first watch.”

“You want to wank each other?” Now Draco looked sharp, intrigued.

“Spray come on the ground?” Harry scolded. “Too easy to track. No, I need to come inside you, and you need to come inside… me. So, do you want me to suck your cock before, or after I top your beautiful arse?”

“You won’t be sleepy?” Draco objected, clearly half-hearted, swaying toward Harry.

“I feel… _most_ awake after sex. Especially with a gorgeous blond, against a tree.”

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“I suppose it might help me sleep,” Draco offered, but Harry knew it was an excuse.

He was diplomatic enough to pretend. “Then it’s settled, because it will help me stay awake.”

Harry reached for Draco, fisting one hand into his hair, one low on the small of his back. He pulled Draco in close and kissed him, hard. He opened Draco’s mouth with his own, took possession of Draco’s breath and tongue and heartbeat.

Harry felt Draco’s cock firm swiftly against his own, so he grabbed Draco’s arse and rubbed their lengths together. 

“Big,” Draco moaned into Harry’s mouth.

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Harry jerked his pelvis into Draco’s over and over. Harry watched Draco’s head fall onto his shoulder, watched his hold on Harry’s waist and bicep relax.

Finally, Draco moaned, low and desperate. “Fuck me. Fuck me Harry, then drop to your knees and suck my cock!”

Harry didn’t bother to voice agreement. He simply turned Draco around, pushed him up against the sturdiest tree captured inside their wards, and cast a few spells as he pulled their clothing down.

“Now, remember,” Harry commanded as he shoved his entire cock into Draco’s tight, lubed hole, “don’t come while you’re getting fucked.”

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Harry fucked into Draco hard: once, twice, then slowed. “I wish you’d make a lot more noise,” he said. “This little corner of forest is warded high and tight.” He slid into Draco as far as he could push. “Much like your fantastic arse.”

“Unh,” Draco whined.

“Tell me,” Harry asked, his mouth on Draco’s ear. “Would you like my hands on your dick?” he brushed his palm over Draco’s erection. “Your balls?” Harry caressed Draco’s smooth, hairless bollocks. “Your nipples?” Harry stroked both hands up Draco’s sides, pulling Draco’s shirt up, to find Draco’s tight, hard nipples.

Draco wailed.

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“Need,” Draco panted, “cockring charm.”

“My pleasure,” Harry murmured, casting a strong one.

“Thanks,” Draco whined, dropping his head forward, onto the tree. He canted his arse higher. Harry found this made it even easier to fuck him.

“Your arse is perfect like this,” Harry praised. “So fuckable. So tight. You feel like hot velvet.”

“Stroke my dick,” Draco demanded.

Harry obeyed immediately, jerking at Draco’s cockhead, catching precome with his palm.

“Unh,” Draco grunted. “Good. Balls, too.”

Harry let go of Draco’s firm, slim hip and reached around Draco to stroke his balls.

“Such a pretty cock,” Harry flattered.

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“Don’t know” Draco panted, “if yours is pretty,” he wheezed and pushed his arse higher again. “But you sure can fuck.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Harry cooed, letting the admiration go to his head. “Especially since we’re going to be stuck here, monitoring all these spells, for days.” Harry twisted his hips, pressing his cock into Draco’s prostate. Hard.

“Days?” Draco asked, writhing a bit on Harry’s erection.

“Oh, yes,” Harry said, then he simultaneously worked Draco’s foreskin and prostate as hard as he could.

Draco collapsed against the tree, and cried out incoherently.

Harry’s grin was impossibly smug.

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“Please, come in me,” Draco panted, overcome. “So hard. Hurts. I’m gonna explode the second you take that charm off. Need your mouth. Can’t wait any longer. Gotta fuck your face.”

“But I’ve hardly had the chance to fuck your hole,” Harry complained. He slowed his strokes and pulled at Draco’s ballsack. “I can’t remember the last time I fucked an arse this perfect, Draco. I almost feel stoned, your arse is so good. Please don’t hurry me.”

“Suck me now? Then fuck me again?”

“Hm,” Harry said, drawing the conversation out, very much on purpose. “That idea has merit.”

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Not bothering to apply his own cockring charm, Harry spun Draco around while sinking to his knees. Harry’s erection bobbed, wet and a little cold, ignored in favor of Draco’s perfect, surging cock.

“Beautiful,” Harry murmured before wrapping a hand around the shaft and taking the rest into his hot mouth. He fucked himself onto Draco’s need over and over, simulating sex instead of teasing or showing his skills.

“Need to come,” Draco moaned, nearly mindless, banging his head into the tree.

 _I want to ruin you for other men_ , Harry thought, as he finally withdrew his unassailable cockring charm.

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Draco’s orgasm rose the moment Harry’s magic released. Harry took his hand from Draco’s shaft, taking Draco all the way down til his lips and nose were buried in Draco’s neatly trimmed pubic hair. 

Draco grabbed Harry’s head, pushed his hands into Harry’s dark hair, and fucked. He punched his cock into Harry’s mouth, drilled over Harry’s tongue, thrust his hips over; rushed down Harry’s throat. 

Then he went limp, apparently ruined for speech.

Harry cuddled close, pressing his erection against Draco’s damp groin. “My turn to come inside you,” he whispered almost tenderly.

“Fuck yes,” Draco whined, turning around.

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Harry slid back into Draco’s body, meeting surprising physical resistance; despite the way Draco canted his hips, pulled open his cheeks, pushed himself on. Draco’s entrance and channel had tightened. Probably from the muscle spasms that accompanied flooding Harry’s throat like a firehose. 

Harry fucked in slow, in deference to Draco’s situation: tender, fully fucked, already orgasmed. He needed to make this good, needed Draco to accept this arrangement for their entire stakeout. He’d longed to be in exactly this position for far too long to fuck this up now.

But when Draco moaned out, “harder now,” Harry immediately complied.

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Panting, Harry rested his forehead against Draco’s nape. He was still hard, still inside. But he’d finally come in Malfoy’s heavenly arse. 

He’d left little indentations in Draco’s bared hips. He hoped they’d become finger-marks. 

“Go,” he breathed, dropping a little kiss on Draco’s sweaty neck. He pulled out and waved cleansing magic over their skin. “Rest. I’ll wake you when I’m tired, or if your surveillance spells show any trouble.”

Harry watched Draco slowly pull up his pants and trousers, and limp into the tent.

 _Lovely_ , Harry thought, smug and satisfied.

He let Draco sleep seven hours.

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Eventually, Draco sauntered out of the tent fully dressed, but stretching so prettily as to bring the word “preening” to mind. “You let me sleep a long time,” he said, approaching Harry.

Harry allowed his eyes to peruse the full length of Draco’s body before he bothered to nod.

“That was thoughtful,” Draco suggested. “I should give you a backrub in thanks before you go sleep.”

“I won’t say no,” Harry said, grinning wide as he pulled off his long-sleeved top. “But after fucking your brains out, I could’ve run a marathon. Staying awake for seven extra hours was easy.”

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Draco trailed a fingertip along the top of Harry’s shoulders as he examined his surveillance display. “I see nothing happened while I slept.”

“Nope,” Harry agreed. “I just meditated and exercised. But we don’t expect anything until tomorrow night at the earliest. We started early purely to be cautious.”

“Of course,” Draco agreed — more easily than Harry would’ve expected, before they’d fucked.

“Explain again why we needed to be all the way out here?”

Draco dug his thumbs into Harry’s shoulders, making Harry groan appreciatively.

“Whispering-gallery waves,” Draco reminded. “We are positioned at the opposite focal point of the parabola.”

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Relaxing under Draco’s forceful pressure, Harry made a questioning noise. Draco tried again. “The effect was originally discovered by Lord Rayleigh at Saint Paul's Cathedral, in London. But it can happen anywhere on earth. It works for both sound waves and magic.”

Harry tried to listen, but Draco’s backrub was increasingly distracting. “Mm?” he said.

“Oh, Harry,” Draco teased. “Don’t worry your pretty head about magical theory. It’s easy for someone as smart as I am. You’re just here to keep me safe and alert DMLE when my brilliance catches your criminals.”

“Hmph,” Harry groused, but he didn’t really disagree.

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They lapsed into silence as Draco used his hands to render Harry finally ready for sleep. Eventually Draco switched to light scratches and Harry took the hint. He stood, stretched, then captured and kissed Draco’s hand.

“That was fantastic,” Harry purred. “I’ll sleep great. Please wake me in four, or if the spells indicate anything unusual.”

“Easy,” Draco agreed, but he looked bored already. “I brought a book.”

“I hope it isn’t pornographic,” Harry rumbled, still standing close, holding Draco’s hand. “Do remember. You must not ejaculate outside my body while we’re here.”

“Certainly not,” Draco agreed, eyes completely glazed.

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Swaying, Harry sauntered into the tent, flirting deliberately to tease Draco. Once inside, he took a deep breath, worked to blank his mind. When that didn’t work, he regretfully spelled his cock flaccid. 

The line of bullshit he was spinning for Draco wasn’t complete bollocks. The likelihood anyone would look for them all the way out here was nearly nil. But, were Harry (and Robards) wrong about that, their ejaculate in the soil would make finding them frighteningly easy. 

And that was completely aside from the reality that if Harry allowed himself to orgasm right now, he’d never fall asleep.

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Five and a half hours later, Draco knocked on the tent. “Wakey wakey,” he called. “Come eat the delicious beef stew I made. Not to mention, I have something I know you’ll want to see.”

Harry could have slept more, but he easily shook himself awake, dressed and emerged, hungry and hopeful.

As they sat near the surveillance display eating stew, Draco flipped open a chart, and Harry’s eyes nearly bugged out.

“If we’re stuck here for at least two days, we should explore multiple pleasant ways to pass the time. As you can see, I’ve thought of several already.”

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Putting down dinner so he wouldn’t choke on it, Harry devoured Draco’s list with his eyes. He knew already, they would try everything.

1: sixty-nine (whoever comes first washes dishes)

2: Draco on Harry’s lap (Lotus position)

3/4/5: Bring/conjure mattress outside (Cowboy position, Jockey position, Bent spoons position)

6: Draco ankles high/highest (Deep impact position)

7: Fuck in front of conjured mirror

8: What would you like to add?

“I reckon I’ll think of something, depending how long we get to stay out here,” Harry said, so stunned that he didn’t even notice the slip of his tongue.

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“Er,” Harry continued, feeling slightly sheepish. “I’m not actually familiar with those. Position names, I mean.”

“Think nothing of it,” Draco said lightly, and took a bite of stew. “It’s specialized knowledge. I only have it because of a hobby I have. None of them are terribly mysterious. I can show you.”

“Hobby?” Harry asked, eating the last of his stew. It was nearly as delicious as Draco had bragged.

“I write gay pornography,” Draco said calmly. He sipped water as though he hadn’t a care in the world, but the spots of colour high on his cheeks betrayed him.

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Harry took quick stock. Draco was embarrassed about, and proud of this hobby. His sexual appetite was pliable and adventurous. He was not only gorgeous, he was exactly Harry’s type. Harry needed to _not_ mess this up.

He whistled, low and warm. “That’s fucking hot.”

Draco sniffed. “I know.” But the snap of his neck and shoulders softened, and the blush high on his cheekbones went from sharp to flattering.

“Mm,” Harry said, sensing a need to move the needle just a bit further. “Makes me want to suck your cock in some fancyass way. Teach me a new position?”

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Draco turned his head toward Harry; slow and deliberate. “First on my list.”

“I’ve heard of 69.” Amused, Harry winked.

“Mine is new,” Draco said. The lowering of his eyelids felt dangerous.

Harry’s cock thickened in his lap.

“First,” Draco said, summoning a large basin and filling it with warm soapy water, “we undress.” The obedient dishes slipped, soundless and splashless, into the basin.

“Then, I’ll levitate us, and cast a slow spinning charm. The first one to come does the dishes while the other man fucks him.”

“Thus our need to wash the dishes outside,” Harry said, amused.

“Exactly.”

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Draco layered on spells in an order he claimed was critical to success. Soon Harry was re-learning cock sucking. 

Sixty-nining while floating was just like sixty-nining in bed. 

Except how it was completely different. 

Gravity pulled at him differently every second — not causing problems, but it had to be acknowledged. The best part was no bed to get in his way. If he wanted to put his hand here, or move his leg there, he always could. 

_I’m good at this,_ he realized.

It wasn’t long before Draco wasn’t so much “sucking Harry’s cock” as he was “crying out helplessly.” 

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No longer distracted by Draco’s mouth, Harry did his best. Draco came quickly, and hard. Harry eagerly swallowed every drop, barely tasting it because he’d pulled Draco’s erection so far down his throat.

“Better get washing,” Harry ordered as Draco eased them gently out of the sky. “I won, and I can hardly wait to fuck you.”

“Oh, I think _I_ won, Harry.”

“Really?”

“I’m not much for topping. Like most gay men, I prefer a thick cock in my bum and a… handsome man’s full attention.”

“You think I’m handsome?”

“I think you have a thick cock.”

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Harry looked up from Go. “It takes almost ten minutes to do a really thorough check of the spells, yeah?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, I have an idea. Might be too difficult for you, though.” He winked.

“Oh?” Draco replied, cool unconcern layered all over him. Harry was beginning to see the tells, though. Draco was really into him. Or Harry’s dick, at least. 

“Can you efficiently, accurately check all the spells while I fuck you?”

“Mm,” Draco said, clearly pretending to contemplate the idea. But Harry had not missed the way his erection began to fill under his thin summer robes.

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“I suppose.” Draco said calmly, like the answer meant nothing. “Finding out could be a fun diversion.”

They both stood, but only Harry stepped toward the surveillance display.

“What stakes were you thinking?”

“I’d say…” Harry pretended to think. “I can’t come until you’re done looking them over. And you come second. After I come, then kneel in front of you.”

“That’s some sort of… contest?” Draco said. He cocked his head and Harry was seized with a desire to kiss his neck.

“More like a fun way to prolong fucking, I guess,” Harry admitted. “We’ve got so much time.”

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Draco’s mouth twisted in dismay, for the shortest moment. Harry almost missed it. 

“I am all for prolonging a fuck,” Draco said, insouciant and somehow abruptly carnal. He grazed Harry’s wrist with one fingertip, then slipped off toward the display. How did a man manage to appear simultaneously unattainable and damn near for sale? 

Staring after him, Harry thought over his words. “We’ve got so much time,” he’d said. Did Draco think Harry found him a mere pastime? Was it more than that? Could it be?

Harry found it difficult, suddenly, to traverse the 20 steps to the surveillance display. 

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Now Harry realized he might’ve implied an abundance of time was the only reason he wanted into Draco’s arse, he had to decide. What was this? 

He sauntered toward Draco slowly; as provocatively as he could, weighing. Then, arriving, he knew.

He’ll play it coy. He’ll decide how he feels while they enjoy each other’s bodies and have few distractions. Maybe when this job is over he’ll feel like taking Draco out for dinner. Maybe Draco will want that, too. But for now, Harry only knows for sure that the sex is glorious.

And frankly, that he’s a little scared.

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Draco sauntered away, cool as a cucumber. On the outside. 

Harry hoped, at least internally, Draco was almost as overwhelmed as Harry.

Striving to appear cool, Harry strolled to the display, where Draco was checking surveillance spells and magical devices. “No fair starting without me,” he murmured.

“You snooze, you lose,” Draco whispered into Harry’s hair. Then he rubbed his perfect arse into Harry’s erection.

“Care to share?” Harry asked, feeling lightheaded.

“All yours,” Draco said, sounding casual, but he lowered his trousers and, with one silent spell, hung them just under his arse, baring heat Harry thirsted to possess.

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Harry had to strive not to rip his clothing away. Instead, he worked to play it a little cooler. _Why had this been so much easier yesterday?_ he wondered.

Harry reached out a hand to caress Draco’s skin. Silently, he cast first a cleansing, then a preparatory, then a lubricating spell. He watched Draco shiver under the onslaught.

Harry then slicked his cock once, twice, taking in deep, silent breaths. He didn’t want to come as soon as he started.

Finally Draco turned slightly and reached for Harry’s cock. “Now it is time for _you_ to share, don’t you think?”

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“If you say so,” Harry teased, his breath warming Draco’s ear. “I wouldn’t want to—”

Harry slid all the way into Draco’s ready arse.

“—keep you waiting,” Harry finished as Draco gripped the display he was facing. He stayed silent, however, and made a good show of continuing to check the spells. 

Eventually Harry tore half his concentration away from the slick perfection of Draco’s body. Draco wasn’t checking those spells at all. He was pretending well, but it was an act.

“Looks like you need some help with that?” he suggested, voice as smug as he could make it. 

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Harry nearly lost himself in slamming Draco’s hole, but not enough that he ignored Draco’s prostate. If Draco’s quiet wailing was to be believed, Harry’s diligence was appreciated.

Remembering their game, Harry slowed to tease. Going deep, he pulled hard at Draco’s hips and whispered as he swivelled his hips: “Surveillance spells?”

“Forget the damn spells,” Draco whimpered. “Fuck me, instead.”

Harry obliged, coming soon after, then sliding to his knees to slowly satisfy Draco with his mouth.

“Wish I knew what you were thinking,” Harry said, ignoring his aching knees.

“Glad your legilimency sucks,” Draco replied, stroking Harry’s hair.

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“Still nothing?” Harry said, as Draco checked the surveillance spells for the third time that morning.

“Quite,” Draco answered, voice clipped. “Do you need sleep? You were awake most of the night.”

“I’m ok,” Harry said dismissively. “You getting sick of this job? You sound done.”

“I suppose,” Draco said, looking at the trees behind Harry. 

Harry wondered why Draco didn’t look Harry in the eye, but chose not to push.

“I miss my comfortable bed. I miss my own space.”

Harry nodded. “I miss Butch.”

Draco swung his eyes to Harry’s, sudden and wary.

“My Siberian Husky,” Harry explained.

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“I was not aware you had a dog,” Draco said, sounding withdrawn, stiff.

Harry, though, felt himself warm and smile, thinking about his pup. 

“Butch is brilliant! I’ve had him almost two years. He’s ridiculously handsome, white and grey with piercing eyes. Really tall, too. He loves running with me every morning. Ginny took him in for me while we’re out here.” Harry laughed. “She tried to take him when we broke up, but I won that fight. He likes me more.”

“Well,” Draco said, smiling slightly now. “Who wouldn’t?”

“Hey!” Harry said, but he was still smiling and laughing.

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“Do you have any pets?” Harry asked. Strange that he’d fucked Draco multiple times, but still knew so little about him, now.

“We have a fish wall,” Draco said, still sullen. “Father installed it in his lounge, to entertain him during his… house arrest. It is enormous.”

“Fish can be very pretty,” Harry said, trying to encourage Draco to open up.

“We also have a crup. Mother and I.”

Harry could get behind a crup a lot more easily than a bunch of fish. “Yeah?” he said, hoping for more.

“Her name is Fontina,” Draco said, blushing.

Harry stared, charmed.

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“Look,” Draco interjected. “Do you want to fuck, or not? Because I have books to read and letters to write.”

“Sure,” Harry said, startled but interested. Draco was prickly this morning, but he was still beautiful and his arse was still hot. “Wanna try that mirror? You can watch me fuck you from behind.”

Draco tipped his head and looked at Harry for a long, indecipherable moment. Harry stayed silent and waited. He might not know Draco well, but he was nonetheless becoming accustomed to his eccentricities. He might bottom, but he still preferred to make the decisions whenever possible.

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Draco was reading. They’d fucked their way through Draco’s list forwards and backwards. Harry was staring at trees, bored. Every available distraction (except sex) had lost its appeal. But there was a limit to how frequently any man could bottom, and Harry had no interest in hurting Draco.

Suddenly, Draco leaped up and strode toward the surveillance display. Harry followed over, keeping a bit of distance as Draco flitted his hands and wand over the spells.

“The enemy is ensnared.” Draco arced his wand in an enormous gesture and the entire display glowed purple before vanishing. “We can go home.”

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“Home?” Harry found this success anticlimactic. He was accustomed to blazing wands, physical altercations. He’d never simply babysat a spellmaster on assignment. If they hadn’t discovered their mutual sexual interest, this would have been the worst assignment since he was a new trainee. 

“It isn’t your usual,” Draco said, calmly packing dishes. “But yes. My surveillance spells recorded the criminals and then ensnared them. Red-handed. Pity not all enemies engage in behavior my spells will capture, mm? But these fools? Putty in my hands.”

His smile was devilish. Harry wanted to blow him.

“I should escort you home,” Harry blurted.

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Harry startled. He’d forgotten something important. He shot off a Patronus to DMLE: “Draco’s spells worked.”

“I did that, _hero_ ,” Draco said.

“Two-part authentication,” Harry said, striding toward the tent. “They needed to hear from both of us.” 

Barely mollified, Draco nodded curtly and returned to packing. Soon they were ready to leave.

“Well,” Draco drawled, “I suppose this was productive. Feel free to tell your boss I’m brilliant. He should hire me again.” He raised his wand then, as if to Apparate away without another word. Or touch.

“Wait!” Harry cried out, cool abandoning him. “I should escort you.”

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“Why?” Draco drawled, leaning back against a slender young oak. He was once again insouciant. Confident. Maddening. 

“Purely precautionary,” Harry said, attempting unaffected and feeling his failure. “We don’t know how many criminals were in the kidnapping ring. If your spells caught everyone.” Harry shook a little, eager not to say goodbye yet. He continued as smoothly as possible, aiming for cocky while probably landing closer to desperate. “What if the wards on your home have been breached?”

Draco raised one eyebrow, and Harry watched as something dawned on the man in his sights. “Was that… innuendo?” Draco asked, smirking.

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Shaking off Draco’s flirting, Harry refocussed. “You could be a target,” he said with all his Auror-borne authority. “Let me escort you home.”

“Very well,” Draco said, waving his wand to levitate over the now enormous sack holding all his clothing, books, and spellmaster surveillance equipment. “Mum and Father will be… intrigued.”

“You live… with your parents?” Harry swallowed, knowing even as he did it that Draco was watching this evidence of his inelegant, obvious nerves.

“Of course I do,” Draco said, and now he sounded… annoyed? “It’s a big, beautiful house, and it’s mine. Where else would I live?”

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Harry felt his embarrassment rise. “Of course,” he said, trying to regain his confidence. “It’s perfectly sensible. But if you have other people in the home, I’m sure they’ve been aware of the wards and perimeters. You should be safe to arrive home alone, as it hasn’t been sitting empty while we have been working. Besides,” Harry said, “I should really visit Ginny; get Butch back.” 

Harry watched Draco’s face ice over, and knew he’d fucked up. 

“Of course,” Draco said, dismissive. “My parents are excellent wizards. I’m sure my home is and has been completely safe while we… worked.”

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“Sure,” Harry agreed, trying to think quickly. “I wondered, though, after I take care of my dog and you spend time with your parents, maybe you'd, er, have dinner with me?”

Draco’s eyebrow went up, and he sneered prettily, but Harry saw his hand relax in his pocket, saw his eyes lose their icy annoyance.

“You enjoyed my company enough to endure me at the dinner table?”

Contemplating his choices, Potter went for broke. “You think I only enjoy you speared? Or fucking my throat?”

Draco tried to control the shiver that raced down his spine, but Harry saw it.

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Harry reached toward Draco’s clean-shaven jaw, but caressed only his collar. Then he put that hand on his cocked hip.

“You think all I want is sex, Draco? Not even. Yes, you’re just what I like to spear on my cock. You’re fit, blonde, tall. Powerful and intelligent. You’re not impressed by my past or my job, and you _love getting fucked_. 

“You’re loud and you writhe and you squeeze my dick. You aren’t remotely scared to fuck my mouth deep and hard. You come like a river in flood. I definitely want sex. But that’s not everything I want.”

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Harry hadn’t been certain what he wanted until Draco had challenged him, but now, facing the possibility their liaison was abruptly done, he knew. He wanted more. Quite a lot more.

Which is why Draco’s irritated reaction caught him off guard.

“What _you_ want? Is all that matters?”

The question shocked, so Harry paused to take Draco in. Harry’s Occlumency was still mediocre, but (despite Draco’s earlier tease) training had improved his Legilimency. Better, a radical openness to others’ minds had taught him to see what people broadcast unintentionally with faces, hands, voices. He could read almost anyone, sans spells. 

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Most Aurors read people well, but Harry was the best. And he clearly should have been paying more attention, because Draco was wound like an overburdened spring.

And — he could see it clearly now — it was Harry’s fault. He’d been dismissing Draco as a colleague when he should have been cosseting him like a lover.

“No,” Harry said, trying for gentle. “I apologize for giving that impression.” 

Harry looked Draco up and down once again, nice and slow, and catalogued everything he saw. “You’re worried,” he said bluntly, “I only want your arse, want _you_ , for sex, for the distraction.”

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Harry continued, “You’re worried I wanted to fuck out here because it was easy, and now I’m just looking for something convenient. What I think will be news is, I’ve had my eye on you for months.”

Draco put one eyebrow up. Everything he was _intentionally doing_ communicated a careful nonchalance.

Harry noted it, but also saw tightness in Draco’s shoulders, the fist shoved in his pocket, the flush of his cheeks contrasting the pallor washing over the rest of his face. It was striking alongside his relaxed stance, half-open arms, smiling mouth.

Draco was good, but Harry was better.

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“I suspect you think I’m blasé about you. About this. Bet you think I get all the arse I want, I’m so experienced; and you can’t stack up next to all the, I dunno, models and Quidditch stars and famous musicians I fuck on a weekly basis.

“If you read gossip mags, I know for sure that’s the bunk you’ve been fed.

“But that’s bullshit. I’ve had sex with four people. Total. Including you, by the way.”

Harry searched Draco’s eyes, posture, face. Draco was still wary, but less so. He was starting to believe Harry was telling the truth.

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“So, newsflash: I loved fucking you. I absolutely want it again. But I also want dinner with you. I want to relax with you. To be alone with you, even if we don’t take off our clothes.”

Harry took a moment to smile winningly at Draco, and as he did, he watched a bit more tension unwind from Draco’s shoulders, a bit more of Draco’s pallor get replaced by an adorable pink flush.

“Hell, I’d even happily catch bad guys with you. I’d happily _camp_ with you again. So,” he tried again. “Dinner?”

“Yes,” Draco whispered, clearly surprising himself. “Seven.”

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“That was a weird few days, camping.”

Smiling wryly at his plate, Draco chewed his salmon. “That it was,” he eventually agreed, watching Harry cut up steak.

“Tell me true, though,” Draco said quietly. “That stuff about how we couldn’t come on the grass, that was bollocks, right?”

“Oh!” Harry said, clearly surprised. “Not at all. I mean, the likelihood that they would come looking for us way out there in the forest was pretty damn low, but what if they knew about that whispering-gallery wave thing, too? If we’d come on the earth, damn, we’d have been sitting ducks.”

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“How do I not know about that magic?” Draco said, slightly suspicious.

“Well,” Harry said, putting his wine glass down and clasping his hands together. “They didn’t teach us anything about it at Hogwarts, for starters. I had to learn about it at the Academy.”

“Tell me more about it?” Draco said, always eager to improve his skills.

And Harry did. He spoke about how it had been discovered in failed attempts at necromancy, how it related to Polyjuice, how it was both similar to, and different from, the need for intent and motivation regarding some spells.

“Like Unforgivables?”

“Exactly.”

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They talked through a long, four course meal: salad, soup, entree, dessert. Harry ordered a second bottle of wine and they were still talking about magic and technique as the restaurant emptied. 

Eventually Harry wondered aloud if Draco might want another pudding, but the waiter appeared, apologetic and embarrassed. Only then did Harry and Draco realize that they were the last ones there who weren’t staff, that it was closing in on midnight, that they had been talking nonstop for over four hours. 

“Good Merlin,” Draco said, honestly surprised. “Who knew we had so much to say to one another?”

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“I could’ve guessed,” Harry said, smiling at Draco’s surprise. Waving off the cheque, he dropped a heavy pile of gold on the table. Draco thought it covered their bill and at least a fifty-percent tip. Nonetheless, he reached into his own pocket and added his own stack of galleons. 

Harry continued. “You’ve long fascinated me, after all.”

“Of course,” Draco said, smiling. He finished his wine. “I suppose I’m glad to know that my great sexual sacrifice was not in vain.”

“And what was that?”

“I wanted, rather dearly, to come all over your pretty face.”

Harry’s eyes visibly darkened.

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Harry stood, so Draco did as well. Harry gestured toward the door, and so Draco followed him toward it. 

Draco had no intention of letting go of this man until he knew for certain what the hell was going on.

Harry crooned into Draco’s ear, taking advantage of the nearly empty restaurant. “Wanted to mark me, did you?” 

Draco forced out a cool response. “It was not as though it were urgent,” he teased back in an airy, buoyant tone. 

“Of course,” Harry agreed. “You've waited this long, after all. But perhaps you’ve waited long enough?”

“Lead the way, Harry.”

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Harry... led the way. Draco did not push; eager to seem nonchalant. Dispassionate. 

So, when Harry offered a drink instead of showing him the bedroom, Draco accepted. 

When Harry introduced Butch, Draco petted the pup.

When Harry sat on the opposite side of the couch, Draco smiled. 

When Harry steered the conversation to politics, Draco spoke intelligently of politics.

When Harry offered biscuits, Draco gently demurred. “I couldn’t, after that lovely meal. I’m quite sated... for sweets.”

Watching Harry return chocolate biscuits to the kitchen, Draco re-applied a silent spell that calmed his erection, and despaired at Harry’s sudden disinterest.

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Perhaps Harry had temporarily lost his damn-fool mind?

 _Finally_ , Harry looked away, then looked flirtatiously through his lashes, both hands threading through his hair.

Draco’s throat dried up.

“Your patience is impressive,” Harry whispered, confessional.

“Oh?” Draco managed.

“I thought I’d play a bit, see if I could hold you off temporarily. But Merlin if you aren’t the coolest cucumber… ever. I can’t wait another moment. Bedroom?”

“As you wish,” Draco said, tone as unruffled as his hair. He allowed, however, a predatory tone into his voice.

Harry stood, but Draco still saw the shiver he’d put down Harry’s spine.

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Though they’d fucked nearly a dozen times, tonight felt different. It wasn’t that Draco felt shy. More that Harry seemed to be treating him _as though_ he was shy. Or as though they were new? 

Perhaps because he’d assumed they were temporary, and tonight meant they might not be.

But Draco felt as though Harry were worshiping him, adoring him, catering to him. Draco felt at every turn as though Harry were trying to prove himself.

Any request: a touch, a position, a kiss; was granted. 

Swept away, Draco forgot his original request, and came lavishly, all over Harry’s abs.

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Draco was fastening his trousers when he realized. He’d intended to mark Harry. Dominate him. Fuck his mouth. _Come on Harry’s face_. He’d even had permission. Well, basically. It had been implied.

“You know—” he said with a feigned calm he hoped Harry would not see through. Harry, who lounged on his bed, completely, temptingly nude. Harry, who looked messy, fucked-out, self-satisfied and damn-near-smug. 

The problem? Inside, Draco was positively fizzing with nerves. 

“—you said I could come on your face, and I did not get the chance, so I should return soon, perhaps next week, and try this again.” 

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Draco was pretty sure he’d spoken coolly, but he was too nervous to be quite sure of his external presentation. 

He’d just had some of the best sex of his life, and the man who’d made that possible was still just resting there, smug and smiling and far too aware of Draco’s problems. 

Would he get turned down? Harry had enjoyed him enough out in the woods, and tonight, also. That had been clear. But had this been a fare-thee-well? A you-were-fun, now-we’re-done? Draco raised his eyes, fearing what he might see.

He saw Harry, getting up off the bed.

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“It would be a shame to turn down an offer that tempting.” Harry said, approaching Draco slowly. He was smiling. 

Draco barely felt able to believe the sincere tone, the honest face, but Harry wasn’t giving him any reason to think he was kidding. 

“Turning you down? Would make me a fool,” Harry continued. “After all, as I told you back at camp, I’ve had my eye on you for months. Merlin, Draco, you’re exactly my type. I even pointed out, just before we went home, how much I enjoy having sex with you. 

“But that’s not everything I want.”

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“What else then, Harry?” Draco said, still faking confidence. Truth be told, Harry’s words, his attention, were making this increasingly easy.

“Just like I said before. To have dinner with you again. Be alone together. Relax with you. Enjoy your company.”

Draco cocked his head deliberately, knowing it made him look nonchalant and handsome at the same time.

Harry smiled indulgently at him. Then he winked. “Shameless,” he teased.

Done pretending, Draco rolled his eyes, stepped forward, and poked Harry right in the chest.

“That sounds like you want a relationship, Harry. We both know that’s ridiculous.”

“Why?”

Draco spluttered.

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Draco forced himself to think. “It is ridiculous that a famous, heroic—”

Harry scoffed, pulling on boxers.

Draco stood taller, tried again. “No man with _your_ reputation would risk—”

Harry laughed out loud.

“You are not taking me seriously!” Draco bellowed. Then he winced.

“I think it’s more that you’re taking _me_ far _too_ seriously. You know what matters to me, Draco? My time. My happiness. My work. But my built-up, media-made reputation? With random wizards? People I’ll never meet? Pfft. Like I’d turn you away because of something one or a dozen or even a thousand strangers _might_ think.”

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“But, I’m sure people whose opinion you value will….” Draco trailed off, unsure.

Harry stepped closer and took Draco’s hand into his own. His eyes were so soft.

“Like who, my boss? Who hired you for a critical job? Which you aced? Like, er, Molly Weasley? Who tries to build me up to every remotely nice queer guy she knows, even men twenty years older?”

Draco didn’t know what to say.

“Maybe you think Hermione or Ron would pressure me to leave you behind?”

Draco waited.

“Hermione thinks very highly of you these days, I think you already know that.”

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“Ron?” Draco asked, conscious he’d not been promised smooth sailing with _that_ Weasley.

Harry snorted quietly, and his face went a little wry. “Well,” he said, and Draco’s heart sank slightly.

“The thing with Ron is, yes, he might be an arse at first. But he values my friendship as much as I value his. And I have an ace.” Harry gave a silly, exaggerated wink. “Hermione.”

Draco’s hands tightened around Harry’s without permission, so he averted his eyes just long enough to wipe away the beginnings of a smirk.

When Draco met his eyes again, Harry was clearly delighted.

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“I want a chance, Draco.” Harry put an arm around Draco. Pulled him in. Squeezed the hand trapped between their bare chests. Kissed Draco’s cheek.

“This is positively surreal,” Draco murmured, then froze. “That was audible, wasn’t it?”

“You are so fucking cute,” Harry said, as though it was an answer. “You don’t like being vulnerable, do you?”

Draco couldn’t respond.

“I can’t make you less vulnerable, but how about I expose myself a little, here? Make things feel a little bit more equal?”

Draco breathed.

“I want to build something real with you,” Harry said, and Draco finally nodded.

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Despite the lateness of the hour, Harry slipped into joggers, loaned Draco a dressing gown to throw on over his trousers, and made a pot of tea. They sat in Harry’s kitchen and Harry bared his soul. He exposed insecurities. He talked about the war, and work, and the utter mess he’d built in his relationship with Ginny.

Harry even admitted things about his childhood that alternately made Draco’s blood boil and his bullshit sensors ping. He believed Harry, and yet, who could believe that Harry Golden Boy Potter, Dumbledore’s Pet Potter, was raised like a house-elf in a cupboard?

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The sun rose.

Harry yawned.

Draco blushed. “I’ve kept you up all night.” He yawned, too.

“S’fine,” Harry said, resting his head on his hand. “Did it help?”

“I hardly believe this night was real,” Draco said. “But to borrow your phrase, I feel we have started building something. Together.”

“Something good?” Harry said. His smile was so sweet that Draco kissed it.

“Yes,” Draco agreed. He stroked Harry’s hair. “It feels we’ve started something very good, indeed.”

“Then can we go back to bed? Just to sleep, though. I’m exhausted.”

Laughing, Draco took Harry’s hand, and together, they slept.

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Fin


End file.
